Cuz I'm Yours To Keep If You Want To
by rodeo-duck
Summary: Things between them had somehow changed. Fluffy vignette.


Uploading things that had been sitting on my computer for forever. Enjoy.

Spoilers: None.

Warnings: References to drug use

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><p>"You're jittery. Even by your standards."<p>

And even by the dim street lamp lights Santana thinks Brittany's got beautiful bone structure in her face, no matter how twitchy she seems that late afternoon.

"Really? Sorry, I guess this is why I was banned from coffee in the first place. I just wanted to be super focused for my exam this morning." Demure eyes look up through long lashes and her thumb is worried between her teeth and Santana couldn't be annoyed, even if she had tried.

So instead she laughs, pulling a single drag from the joint she'd just finished rolling and lit. She exhales through her nose, pleased to see the smoke come out in thin tendrils and Brittany is still jiggling her leg, and it's making Santana dizzy with desire.

"Here," she says, as the joint hangs limply from her fingers hanging between the two of them, "Maybe this'll help calm you down."

Brittany accepts eagerly and as she closes her eyes enjoying the hit, Santana moves to straddle her hips tracing the back of her knuckles against the most perfect cheeks and lips she's ever seen. A blue eye peers at her questioningly as Brittany laces their fingers together and shotgun's Santana her exhale.

The tension has eased out of both of their bodies by now as Santana moves to nuzzle Brittany's neck.

"Told you it would help."

She feels warm despite the cool November air around them, and somewhere Santana knows that they're treading a fine, or maybe it was a blurry line, she's not really sure anymore, as she carefully picks the joint from Brittany's long fingers taking another long drag.

However, she does know that she likes the weight of Brittany's hand in her own and that in a single fluid moment Brittany was kissing her fully on the mouth again, presumably under the pretense of taking her shotgun. But then Brittany's or maybe it was hers, not that it really mattered anyways, tongue darts out and then there are soft moans and questioning hands and Brittany tastes like oranges as Santana moves to palm a perk breast.

This isn't the first time that they're making out, nor will it be the last, but something feels different; heavy almost, with something Santana can't place a word on, as if it were about to break or tip over, again Santana doesn't know which, and Brittany is looking at her with her gorgeous lips and cheeks and blue eyes as their breath visibly mixes together in the cold air. The thought leaves her before it can fully develop itself; she's got more important things to focus on, as she's got one hand working on the clasp of Brittany's bra and the other on the hem of her sweater. Brittany's mouth and hands are everywhere, from soft pants swallowed by Santana's mouth; to Santana's neck, nipping just enough to get Santana to buck against Brittany's hips, hands tangled in soft black hair.

They are catapulting headfirst over this imaginary fine or blurry line, Santana is sure of it, or maybe they already have, a long time ago when this dance first started. Her thoughts are kind of blurry and hazy at best though, and the only thing that feels real are the nails raking through her tresses and the tongue that is currently in her mouth.

The last of the sun's daylight is sinking deep into the horizon, and somewhere Santana knows that they have to get up if they don't want to get into trouble. And as much as she likes impromptu semi-public sex, Santana's got a queen sized bed at home.

She thinks that Brittany must somehow intuitively feel her thoughts too, she's always been really good at reading Santana like that, because she gently pushes Santana off of her hips separating only enough to get up and press her body flush against Santana's. A pinkie is held out, but Brittany opts to laces their hands together, and it is a first, but not an unwelcome gesture, as they walk home together.


End file.
